The Caged Sparrow
by Silver84
Summary: Jack Sparrow is captured by a band of pirates, and is taken to Port Royale, where he meets some old friends. Will he be able to get revenge on his captors? Is his crew still alive? PLEASE read and REVIEW!
1. Captured

Disclamer: I don't own any of the people that you recognize. If they were all my own people, this wouldn't be fanfiction. I own the people that you don't, but I don't really care. They do what they want. They all do.  
  
Jack Sparrow watched the ship crawl slowly over the vast stretch of endless ocean. Waves crashed lightly against the sides of the hull, and Jack lounged uncomfortably in the prison below deck. The ship was a large one, topped with three billowing white sails that danced over the gleaming rails. In contrast with the ship, the crew were greasy, dirty men, with long knotted hair hanging limply from their heads like rotting strands of seaweed. It had been six days since he had been captured, but so far, he couldn't tell where they were going. He could hear muffled voices coming from above him, but no matter how he strained to listen, he could hear nothing. It was rare that anyone should come down to see the pirate captain staring through the iron bars, but at that moment, Jack heard heavy footsteps working their way toward him. A wooden cup was thrust into his hand, and water splashed over the sides. Jack licked it from his grimy hand, wincing as his chapped lips cracked. He could taste blood. The water was fresh, and as clean as one could expect on a pirate ship.  
  
"Thank you." Jack croaked, trying to find the strength to say something amusing, but his mind came up short. "What do I owe the pleasure of yer visit to?" He asked, drinking the rest of the water quickly. The man grunted, hatred flashing in his dark eyes.  
  
"Yer worth money, Sparrow." He growled. "Alive. But nobody said how alive you have to be." His fist collided into Jack's stomach, making the imprisoned man gasp for air as he writhed on the floor. He retched, but nothing came out; there had been nothing in his stomach to begin with. The man laughed, leaving Jack doubled over on the grimy floor as he walked back up to the deck.  
  
Jack sat up, clutching his stomach. So that was what they wanted. A reward. If he hadn't been in so much pain, Jack could have laughed. The rocking of the ship made his normally strong stomach churn, and as he curled up into the fetal position in the corner of the cell, his mind floated back to his capture.  
  
The morning had dawned red, and Jack knew that blood would be shed that day. He stood on the deck, shouting orders to the crew, only half expecting them to get done. The Pearl was in top condition since he had taken over the wheel, and he looked up at the mended black sails and smiled. His thoughts were interrupted by a shout from the crow's nest.  
  
"Captain, Sails ahead!"  
  
Jack looked out to the horizon, and sure enough, a set of white sails cut through the air as the ship sailed toward him. Jack watched as the distance between his, and the other ship shrank quickly. He pulled himself from his daze, and shouted "Hoist the sails! Quickly! Man The decks! We'll outrun this devil. Raise our flag!" The black, grinning skull and crossbones flew upward, dancing above the highest mast, as Jack's orders were obeyed. Jack whispered a silent plea, before he took the large, wooden steering wheel in his hand, and steered The Pearl thorough the choppy water. He picked up his spyglass and gazed onto the other ship, noticing a similar pirate flag flying from above the other ship. Jack called out for the oars, but no matter how fast the Pearl went, the ship continued to gain on them.  
  
"They've caught our wind." Jack muttered. "Bloody pirates. This is impossible, we're the fastest ship in the Caribbean." But there was nothing that the captain could do except watch the ship grow closer and closer, until soon the ships had pulled up next to each other, and the cannons began to fire. Jack retaliated, and splinters of wood was flying from both ships. A splinter crashed into Jack's upper thigh and stuck. The pain was immense, but Jack had felt worse. Blood poured freely, staining the dirty brown pants that Jack had always worn. He was unaware of the figure standing behind him, until Anamaria spoke  
  
"Cap'n, yer hurt. Are you okay?" Jack winced and nodded, but as the blood kept flowing, his head began to spin, and the next thing he knew, Jack had blacked out, one hand still clutching the wheel of his beloved Pearl. When he came to, Jack was in the prison. His leg had been bandaged, but crudely, and he could tell that it would become infected, unless it was cleaned properly. He hoped that he would be sold soon, before he would have to lose his leg. He didn't know what had happened to his crew, or to his ship. He was bruised, and he was fairly certain that at least one of his ribs had been broken. He was dehydrated, and a constant pain lanced through his head, but at least he was alive. 


	2. coming to port

As the days wore on, Jack decided that he would rather be dead. The wound in his leg began to fester, and on the days that water was brought down to him, Jack used half of it to clean his wound. Every time he touched his leg his head spun with the pain, but he didn't want to end up with a peg like some of those other pirate captains he had known. The days passed slowly, and Jack quickly tired of watching through the knot hole in the side of the ship. Some days, he saw dolphins, leaping out from under the crystal blue water, but even those rare sightings were not enough to keep him watching the ocean. As the ship continued, Jack lay against the bars and rested, drifting in and out of consciousness, waking only when his captors came to visit him. Jack knew that he was sick, and each day spent in the brig only made him worse. His unconsciousness lasted longer and longer, and when he was conscious, he was hallucinating. His strength left him quickly, and Jack knew that he was dying. That thought actually comforted him some, knowing that soon he would be away from this hell he had been thrown into. "Well, Jack, ole buddy." He thought to himself, "ye've finally been beaten." Another voice added to his thoughts. "you can't die. You're cap'n Jack Sparrow. Don't give up so easily." Jack shook his head, noticing that he was alone. He continued to argue with himself, becoming so involved, he did not realize that the ship had stopped. A man came down to collect the prisoner, keys jangling in his hand. He jiggled the key in the lock, and the door swung open. Jack didn't budge.  
"Up wi' ye, Sparrow." The man growled, but Jack could not hear him. Rough hands pulled Jack to his feet, but as they let go, he crumbled to the ground. Jack's captor hoisted him to his shoulder, slinging Jack's arms to hang behind the larger man. The captor brought Jack up to the main deck, noticing three skeletons hanging from an overhand. He read the inscription and shuddered. He did not envy Jack for what they planned on doing to him. Jack stirred as he was brought to shore, but as he started to regain his sight, the man dropped him at the foot of a stone building, hitting his head on a rock and passing out again. If Jack had been awake, he would have heard the blades clashing as his pirate captor fought for his life. He would have felt the warm blood splash across his face, and he would have known that life for his captors had just turned very bleak. Jack probably would have found it funny that his own life had been a bargain. Jack was bait, and finally, the fish had bitten, helping Commodore Norrington rid the waters of more pirates.  
  
Jack came to again in a different, but decidedly improved jail cell. The bottom was lined with straw, and it was slightly more comfortable. His leg had not been treated, and he cursed before losing his thoughts to the dark black of dreamless sleep. When he awoke again, Jack found a small metal plate full of food lying against the metal bars. He sat and pulled it closer to him, tearing chicken hungrily from the bone. There was no water, which was what Jack really needed. He had been here once before, about a year earlier: Port Royale prison. He hoped that his presence was known here, and a certain blacksmith and his wife would come to help him again. His head swam with the effort of thinking, and he felt blood in his hair. He hit the ground pretty hard, he knew, and he was glad that he could still remember what had happened. Jack pulled himself to his feet and staggered over to the barred window that he had first glimpsed the Pearl out of. The sky was dark, and clouds rolled in from the east. Jack knew that a storm was on the way, but he hoped that it would wait until he got out of this jail.  
  
Well, here's chapter two. Thank you everyone who reviewed. Let me know what you think. 


	3. old friends

The weather was not as cooperative as Jack would have liked. He pressed his face against the barred window, and watched as the fat drops fell on the dirt ground below. Jack cursed, shivering at the draft that blew through the un paneled window. He let go of the cold, wet bars and curled into a ball in the corner of the cell. He burrowed as much as he could under the hay that littered the ground, shivering as he thought about how pitiful he must look, but didn't care as he slid into a fitful sleep.  
  
Again, Jack was awakened too early, with the moonlight still pouring in through the window. Unlike the last time, Jack looked into a familiar face.  
"Jack?" Will Turner asked "What are you doing, getting caught a second time?" Jack grunted, lips too chapped to answer. Will continued to tease, but as Jack shifted under the hay, he noticed the dried blood crusted to Jack's pants.  
"Jack? Are you okay?" Will's laughter changed to concern. "Can you stand?" Jack shook his head and struggled to his feet.  
"It'll take a wee bit more than a busted leg to keep ol' Captain Jack down. Savvy?" Jack's voice was little more than a whisper.  
"Right, Jack" Will answered gently, keeping his surprise at Jack's condition controlled. Footsteps echoed on the stairs and Jack sunk back to the floor as he saw James Norrington, the Commodore in the British Fleet, he was followed by a lovely young girl, wearing a plain skirt and a blouse.  
  
"Ah, mates." Jack croaked "what do you want with me?" Elizabeth rushed to the bars of the jail, after seeing Jack's condition.  
"Jack, I was discussing getting you out of here, just for the time being." Jack leaned up against the bars, listening. Both Will and James looked interested.  
"Just how were you planning on doing this, young missy?" Jack asked.  
"well, I was just wondering, James, would you consider..."  
"Its Commodore to you, Miss Swann. You used me once, I refuse to let you use me again." Elizabeth's face fell as she realized that her plan would be more difficult to execute than she thought.  
Elizabeth tried again. "commodore Norrington, you cannot use Jack in this condition. You know that. Let him come home with us, let us nurse him back to his normal health, and then you can use him how you need to. Is it a plan?"  
James sighed, knowing that she was telling the truth. Jack would not help in his current condition. He also knew that Jack would be more willing to help if he didn't lose his leg.  
"Yes. Take him, do not let him escape, and help him. Do not let anyone see him, and do not let him see anyone else. He is the most important pirate we have, and we need him alive." Will looked at his girlfriend and smiled, still curious as to what was going on in her head. James Norrington whistled, smiling as a scruffy, tan terrier ran from the lower cells, where he had been antagonizing the longer residents of the jail. Norrington pulled the keys from the dog's teeth, and opened the door to the jail cell. Jack struggled to stand, but realized that he could not. Will stepped further and slung Jack's arm over his shoulders. Supported by Will and Elizabeth, Jack staggered to the governor's house. Elizabeth left, checking to see that their path was clear. The household was quiet and Elizabeth turned back to let the two men inside. Jack and Will followed Elizabeth upstairs to one of the many extra rooms. With the help of Will, Elizabeth lay Jack gently on the bed, leaving the covers bunched at the foot of the bed. Elizabeth left and returned with a porcelain pot, filled with warm water and rags. Will had already removed the torn pant leg that stuck to Jack's bloody leg. Elizabeth took one of the linen strips from the pot and cleaned Jack's wound. Jack moaned and grunted as she touched the torn flesh. Finally, the leg was clean enough to see the shard of splintered wood pushing from Jack's thigh. Elizabeth grasped it firmly and pulled it out, jumping back as Jack shouted.  
"Are ye trying to kill me, you bloody woman?" Will placed his hand across Jack's mouth while Elizabeth bound the infected wound. Blood ran freely from the wound, and Elizabeth pressed more on the hole, thankful that Will was muffling Jack's protests. Finally the bleeding stopped, and Elizabeth left to pour the water out the window. She left for the pump, and came back with a pitcher of fresh, cool water, which she held to Jack's lips. He drank, but immediately started coughing as the water went down the wrong tube. Will propped the other man against a pillow, and they tried to give him water again. When the water was finally gone, and Jack had fallen asleep, Elizabeth and Will went to their own bed, both worried that somebody would have heard Jack's shouts.  
  
That's it for chapter 3. Let me know what you think. I'll try to update more often, but I'm not exactly sure what is going to happen yet, so if you have any ideas, let me know. Thanks 


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